Tiger Laying Wait
by FaithDaria
Summary: Dana's always been a lot more perceptive than anyone realized, but it wasn't until she saw Charlie Bigelow's face turn into something out of a splicer's fantasy that it became a problem. Now there are suddenly people who want to kill her and people who are completely terrified of her, and her boyfriend's boss might be the only one with answers.


The room smelled of sweat and urine and weakness and it was turning Chris's stomach. Jackie was a Grimm. Weakness wasn't part of her vocabulary, shouldn't ever be applied to his sister, but she was still lying on the bed and unable to move. She wouldn't have been able to defend herself against a Fuchsbau or a Blutbad, let alone a Schakal. It wasn't right. Jackie was completely helpless and dependent on him to protect her and care for her, and such a thing was wrong when it came to a Grimm.

The word had no doubt spread to the Wesen community by now. Chris could probably step outside and find any number of creatures hanging around, waiting for the right opportunity to earn a few accolades by killing a Grimm, no matter how badly injured she was. He wasn't a fighter, not like Jackie, because he wasn't a Grimm. He'd been the Giles to her Buffy for the past ten years and while he was competent in a fight Jackie was born for them. He would never be at the same level as his sister unless he became a Grimm, and that wouldn't happen as long as she was alive.

Jackie had fallen asleep an hour ago, the lines of pain on her face smoothing a little with the help of hydrocodone. The catheter bag was about half-full and hanging on the bedpost, its tube snaking beneath the worn blankets on the bed. Chris had needed to fight the doctors tooth and nail to get her released, but the hospital was difficult to defend and he was sure that her healing would kick in once she was home. Instead she was slowly failing, her body shutting down without medical care, and taking care of her had quickly become a thankless chore.

He knelt down and placed a Colt 1911 within easy reach of her right hand, along with an extra clip nearby. She already had a knife under her pillow. His sister would go out fighting and the least he could do would be to provide the weapons necessary to make sure that happened. A Grimm should go out with her boots on.

Then he picked up his wallet and keys and walked out the door. Nature would take care of this problem. If his sister was strong enough to fight off the Wesen that came for her, then she was strong enough to recover. If she fell, the birthright would fall to him. No matter what happened, things would be better after this.

Chris was careful to not lock the door on his way out.

xxx

Dana had known that Charlie was trouble from the moment that Terry had introduced them, but convincing Terry of that fact was only partially accomplished with a stint in a juvenile detention facility. It was especially frustrating because the very things that set Terry apart from most of the people she knew (his willingness to see the good in people, to give second chances, to help others with little concern for his own well-being) were what made him such an easy target for Charlie. That dreg had been taking advantage of Terry since they were in middle school, and it wasn't surprising that he'd tracked down her boyfriend as soon as he'd gotten out of prison.

She had not been expecting his face to morph into something more animal than human the instant he caught sight of her. Dana stepped back into Terry's space for a moment, her boyfriend's familiar warmth reminding her that she wouldn't have to deal with Charlie alone, though she was somehow sure she would have to deal with the bastard. Charlie's face turned back into something human, but his expression was still mean and angry and . . .hungry. It was a look she'd seen on the faces of a few splicers over the past couple of weeks, unique only because they'd been a lot more focused on her specifically than she was used to seeing. Typically they noticed Terry before anything, because Terry had learned back in juvie to move like a predator so you didn't become prey. Most splicers registered him as a potential threat and kept eyes and focus on him rather than her, and Dana had been completely fine with that arrangement. She still wasn't sure why it had started to change.

And just like in this moment, her reaction to such things was starting to change. After a second of startled reaction and a quick check for reassurance of backup, Dana was thinking of ways to force Charlie away from the both of them.

"So, Dana," Charlie said, standing up and looming over the two of them. It wasn't as intimidating as the man had thought it was back when they were kids and it was less so now. "I see you're still hanging out with this twip. I don't suppose I could persuade you into taking a step up the ladder? We both know you could do better."

The outraged expression on Terry's face would have been hilarious in any other situation. "I'm not interested. Not now, not ever," Dana said before it could escalate. Terry could probably take him in a fight if he had to, but that would get messy and right now she would settle for being away until she could figure out what was going on. Splicers couldn't hide what they were, and most of them didn't want to hide. Dana was also fairly certain that Terry hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary.

Charlie had never really paid her much attention when they were kids. All of his focus had been on Terry, because Terry was the key to getting noticed by the higher levels of criminals. Dana had been unimportant in his schemes, but that had apparently changed sometime in the last few minutes. He wanted something from her now, and Charlie wasn't the kind of guy that took no for an answer.

"Don't be like that," Charlie said, taking a step towards her. "Come on baby, I've got a lot of time to make up. You grew up schway, Dana."

"She said beat it, Charlie." Terry's shoulder brushed against hers as he stepped into her space. He was probably only one more comment from throwing punches, and in the old days before Wayne had taken him under his wing a fight would have been pretty much unavoidable by now. But Terry had changed a lot since them, and now he stepped back from Charlie and towards the door. Dana did the same, long-accustomed to paying attention to Terry's body language and instincts, especially now that her own matched up with his completely. "Better yet, we will. See you around, Charlie."

They went out the door together, ignoring Charlie and the parting shot about Dana being an uptight bitch, and they didn't stop to talk until they were several blocks away. "So what was that?" Terry asked once they were a reasonable distance from Charlie. "I mean, you've never liked him-"

"With good reason," Dana pointed out, interrupting before he could defend the dreg. "He's the reason you went to juvie."

Terry shrugged. "Like I was saying, you've never exactly been on each other's Christmas lists, but that was something new. What gives?"

"I hate how Charlie uses you, and I hate how you let him use you," she said. Dana was fairly proud of how evenly she said it. Charlie Bigelow was one of the subjects guaranteed to make her angry.

"Again, that's nothing new. You've been saying that since we were twelve, usually with a bit more volume. What changed?"

She kept her attention on the people around them, trying to see if any of them were watching her the same way Charlie had done. "Did you notice anything different about him?" Terry had always seen more than people gave him credit for, and it had gotten stronger with his new job as Bruce Wayne's bodyguard and assistant. Sometimes she wondered what his new boss was really teaching him.

"He was paying a lot more attention to you than he normally does, but that might be because you're older now." Terry was watching her now from the corner of his eye and she continued to watch the crowd, not meeting his eyes as he talked. "You've never confronted Charlie before now, either, but you were right there with me when he got started. You saw something that made your instincts flare up. What was it?"

Dana finally turned to meet Terry's eyes. "He wasn't human. He looked like a splicer for a second, but I don't think anyone else saw it."

She was expecting at least a little disbelief, possibly even a laugh from her boyfriend. Terry tended to be cynical when it came to things that couldn't be explained through normal means. Instead, he was giving her a thoughtful look. It was oddly serious and very much something Dana wasn't used to seeing on Terry's face. "What did he look like, exactly, and when did you see it?"

"Like some sort of dog. A wolf, maybe, but sharper and meaner, and it just appeared on his face when he looked at me." It had been more disturbing than most things you saw around Gotham because of the way it had appeared and disappeared. Splicers couldn't hide what they were. Most of them didn't want to hide, or they wouldn't be splicers. That was the terrible and wonderful thing about living in this city; everyone knew that it was dangerous and full of psychopaths and no one tried to hide it.

Terry nodded. "Let's go. We're taking this to Mr. Wayne."

If you lived in Gotham City, you knew the name of Bruce Wayne, and if you were at least a little more informed than the average Joker you knew what he looked like. That knowledge hadn't quite prepared her for the sheer weight of his presence. He took Terry's quiet explanation of what had happened without comment before turning to her. Dana was normally fairly good at reading people, but the man wasn't giving her much. He trusted Terry, that much was clear, but he didn't trust her. "Describe what you saw, Miss Tan, in as much detail as you can."

She frowned as she pictured it, and when she finally started to speak she could feel her anger fading into something a little cooler and sharper. "Charlie looked like a splicer, but I was the only one who seemed to see it. The basic shape of his face was human, but his mouth and nose turned into a canine muzzle, there was a lot more hair than normal, and his teeth turned into fangs. Then it was gone and he just looked like Charlie Bigelow, professional sleaze."

Mr. Wayne wasn't exactly one for extraneous movement; Dana had a feeling that every single action the man took was deliberately calculated for maximum result compared to the effort employed. With that said, the old man had gone still when she finished talking. Terry noticed it as well and was standing between them. Dana wasn't sure which one of them he was preparing to protect and she wondered if even he knew.

"I know someone who can help," the old man finally said, leaning a little more heavily on his cane. "I'm not sure if he'll come, but he should be able to tell you something. I have to make a few calls."

He hobbled from the room, the dog following close behind. Terry stayed at her side, answering the question of who he had been protecting earlier. "What else have you seen?" he asked quietly. "This wasn't the first thing you noticed."

"I've been getting strange looks for the past week or so whenever I see a splicer," Dana said. "Sometimes it's something like Charlie, but most of the time it's actually fear. It's like the sight of me makes them completely terrified." She shrugged, trying not to show how much that had bothered her. Terry pulled her in close, apparently not falling for the act. He must be just as freaked out by this whole thing as she was, but all that showed was worry for her, and that was exactly why she'd stayed with him through juvenile detention and dozens of broken dates.

"We'll figure it out together," he promised. "You can handle dating me, you can handle anything."

Dana laughed and kissed him. She'd missed this kind of thing. They'd both been so busy with work and school (Terry more than her, admittedly) that time spent together was a scarce commodity. Even with this new stress, it was nice to just spend some time with him. "I hope so. It's really putting a crimp in my clubbing schedule."

There was a sound in the hallway, too loud to be anything other than deliberate, and the two separated as Mr. Wayne came in and headed straight for the armchair. "He'll be here within the hour. In the meantime, Terry and I have some work to do. If you don't mind, Miss Tan, I'll be needing your boyfriend to help file paperwork. The world doesn't stop simply because you have a problem."

Oddly enough, that bit of backward reassurance was almost as comforting as Terry's more straightforward ones. Dana relaxed, sat down on the couch, and watched the two of them wrestle with paperwork while she waited.

xxx

There wasn't any context for what it would feel like to become a Grimm, but Chris assumed that when Jackie died the mantle would fall to him. He was the closest relative, after all, and it had always followed the family line before. When he'd stepped back into the house after six hours, carrying some token bags of groceries from a store on the other side of town and Jackie's prescriptions, Jackie was dead. Chris called the police, genuinely distraught over his sister's death, and they'd promised to find the murderer. They wouldn't, of course, but it was a nice thought. Chris wasn't sure which of the Wesen had gotten the final blow in, though from the state of the bedroom she'd put up one hell of a fight. He wouldn't have expected any less. He would need to keep his ear to the ground, because it would be impossible for a Wesen to kill a Grimm and not brag about it. Once this one slipped up Chris would track it down and kill it. It wouldn't do to let the creatures think they could kill a Grimm and get away with it.

It took a week to clear things up and get Jackie safely cremated and her affairs put in order and Chris used that time to mourn his sister. He avoided contact with anyone that he knew was a Wesen, just in case they decided to push things before he was ready. He would need to train now that he'd taken up the family birthright and it would be a month or so before he would truly be ready for confrontation. In the meantime, he would use his connections and research tools to figure out who had been the one to kill Jackie. The last thing he needed was some Wesen figuring out that he'd left the door of their rental house unlocked on purpose.

xxx

Terry had always wanted to meet the first Robin, at least partially because of the way the Commissioner talked of him (and partly because of the way Bruce _didn't_ talk about him at all), but he wished it hadn't happened like this. Grayson looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here and given the way things were going Terry wanted to oblige him.

Most people probably wouldn't have noticed the split second of hesitation when Grayson caught sight of Dana, or the microexpression of fear that crossed his face in that moment, but those people hadn't trained as Batman. Bruce took note of the fact but remained focused on the conversation he was having with the former Nightwing. Terry took a step closer to his girlfriend and remained wary. He hadn't missed her split-second reaction either. She had seen something weird when she looked at the man, just like when she'd looked at Charlie earlier.

Eventually Grayson sat down in a chair across from Bruce's usual spot and Dana settled onto the couch, leaving Terry with the choice of sitting down next to her or pacing the room. As much as he wanted to move, he chose the couch instead. No one needed the distraction of him wandering around right now.

Grayson took a deep breath and finally focused on Dana. He'd been avoiding looking at her since that first step into the room, which was something else both incarnations of Batman had noticed and not mentioned, beyond a shared look that the other room's occupants didn't notice. "I don't know exactly what's going on down to the last detail, but I can make a pretty good guess. Do you know what you are?"

Dana gave him an unimpressed look, eyebrows arching and mouth turned down a little. "I'm seventeen years old and I'm Chinese-American. I'm pretty sure I'm not a meta, though I know sometimes a person's powers don't emerge until they're an adult and in a stressful situation. And I've been told I'm a very good dancer."

"This is something that goes beyond metahuman. Something you should ask your family about, honestly. They could probably help you better than I could."

"And how exactly am I going to bring this up to my dad? He'll have me locked away somewhere before I can blink." Dana shook her head and leaned forward. "Just tell me what's going on, please. There's no point in dragging this out."

"Are you sure that there's no family besides your father?" Grayson didn't look nervous; he was probably too well-trained for that. But he was keeping a clear, cautious distance from Dana, and that spoke volumes.

"My mom died when I was little and Daddy cut off all communication with her side of the family, what little there was. Dad only had one brother and he died a few years ago. I used to talk with my cousin on that side on the net when we were kids, but I haven't heard from him in months."

Grayson gave a sharp nod. "You saw what I am."

Dana's eyes narrowed. "I saw something. I'm not sure what."

Terry watched as Grayson's face shifted, nose forming a beak and hair turning into feathers. It would have been a lot more unsettling a few years ago. A second later it went back to normal. "I'm a Steinadler. You're a Grimm. And I am out of here. There you go, questions answered. Have a nice life, and I hope I never see you again."

xxx

Most of the Wesen communities were based in port cities in the United States. Things moved a little more slowly and more like the old-world when it came to the monsters and the bulk of the immigration had only really started after the second World War when the Wesen bid for power had fallen flat. So far they seemed to stay in areas that allowed them easy escape from the country. It made them easier to avoid while Chris had been training, and it also made it easier to find a Wesen so he could practice his new skills when he decided he was ready. Any city that sheltered Wesen was bound to have a bar that mostly catered to that specific clientele, and it wasn't hard to track down one such establishment once he'd picked up and moved to a place that had probably never heard of Jackie.

The research had always been left to Chris, not because Jackie was incapable but because she had better things to do. She'd been the one to scout out concentrations of Wesen and the one who had contacts in that world. Chris was the one who made sure they recorded everything that had been useful in her observations, to dig through the old books when they'd stumbled into something unknown, and to make up the various poisons and remedies that a Grimm usually needed. Jackie wouldn't have wanted him anywhere close to a Wesen bar. She'd always been protective of him.

Now, though, he simply opened the doors to the place and walked inside. Chris wasn't there to cause trouble, though he was ready for it should it happen. He simply wanted notice served that there was a new Grimm around, and to get a feel for what was happening. He didn't have any real contacts in the Wesen world and he'd need to develop them, since his sister's wouldn't be any use to him.

Chris walked in with his shoulders back and his head held high, not spoiling for a fight but entirely ready to join in if someone else started one. It was the way his sister had always walked into a new place and he felt like he was honoring her memory by doing the same thing. He was going to be a fantastic Grimm, all due to his sister's influence.

The first sign that something wasn't quite right was the lack of reaction he received when he walked in. He knew from years of observing Jackie that a Wesen woging at the sight of a Grimm was mostly involuntary and almost instantaneous. Every once in a while she would meet someone in control enough to keep a lid on his true face, but that was truly the exception that proved the rule.

Not a single one of the Wesen in the bar showed their face, though a few were looking at him with predatory interest.

Something in his carefully laid out plan had gone wrong. His sister's sacrifice hadn't worked the way he'd hoped it would, and Chris left the bar as quickly as he could.

xxx

"What's a Grimm?" she asked, standing up and moving to block the way out of the door. She couldn't let this man leave until she'd gotten some answers. "And for that matter, what's a Stein-whatever? Why aren't you telling me what I need to know?"

"Both of you sit down," Mr. Wayne said, the pleasant façade disappearing and something much harsher taking its place. "Dick, please tell her that much at least."

The other man was shifting in place, clearly not wanting to sit down unless she did the same. "I can't help, Bruce. You know I can't. There's nothing I can do."

"I don't understand," Dana said, watching as the man turned toward the door. She was still blocking his path and wasn't sure what she'd do if he decided to push matters. "What exactly is the problem here? Why won't you help me? Can't you at least tell me what in the world is going on?"

"The problem," Grayson spat out, stepping to the side and never turning his back towards her even as he edged his way out of the room, "is that Grimms are the boogeymen of the world I grew up in. Your kind are the monsters under the beds of Wesen children everywhere. When I was a kid I had three basic forms of nightmares: my parents dying, Bruce dying, and a Grimm finding me and killing me. So no, I'm not going to help you learn how to do that. Forget it." With that he made his way around her and left the room, moving so quickly and lightly that she only knew he left the house when the door closed behind him.

Dana turned towards Mr. Wayne. The old man had stood up from his chair and taken a step or two forward as if he wanted to follow Grayson before stalling out a meter or so away from her. Her heart was pounding and she could hear the sound of her own blood pulsing in her ears. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on?"

"I'm showing her the Cave," Terry said, standing up and walking to her side. He didn't touch her, but just his presence at her side helped. Mr. Wayne turned to glare at him and her boyfriend glared right back. "You're telling her everything she needs to know, and we're going to figure out how to keep her alive. No more secrets, Bruce. Dana deserves to know the truth."

With that announcement he stood up and started walking deeper into the house. Dana followed quickly behind him, catching up and reaching for his hand as he stepped into a comparatively small, neat room that probably stood as Wayne's office. There was a portrait on the wall of a man and a woman, with a young, solemn boy standing between them, and the eyes of the boy were familiar. She could hear the very faint sound of Mr. Wayne's cane striking the hardwood of the floor from behind her, Ace's nails clicking in concert with the sound, as Terry stepped up to the tall Grandfather clock under the portrait. He opened the glass front with his free hand, reached inside the clock, and pulled a lever.

There was a click and the clock swung open like a door, revealing a doorway that gaped into darkness. Mr. Wayne was right behind them now and he followed as Terry escorted her down a stone staircase and into a huge underground space. The sound of switches being flipped was a prelude to industrial lights coming on with a dull hum and Dana looked from the giant penny and dinosaur to the massive bank of computer and diagnostic equipment before settling on the costumes lined up against the wall. "Well," she said. "I guess now I know why you kept running out on our dates."

xxx

Something had obviously gone wrong, but Chris wasn't sure exactly what that was. With Jackie dead he should have become the next Grimm, but after that little incident it was clear he wasn't. Someone else had gotten the birthright that he had rightfully earned and it didn't make sense. He was Jackie's brother. There weren't any other close relatives from his mother's side, the Grimm side, and obviously no one was as close to her as he had been.

His sister's abilities had gone to a person who didn't deserve them and couldn't possibly know how to handle them as well as Chris could handle them. He pressed lightly against the bruise that covered the right side of his face and hissed at the pain. As soon as his face had healed enough that he could open both of his eyes he would have to start tracing down to the family tree so that he could fix this problem right away.

xxx

Mr. Wayne's explanation of what a Grimm was and what she could probably do was sketchy, but with all of the other bombshells that was probably for the best. Details could wait for later. For now all she wanted was the broad outline, and the old man seemed to understand that and prepare for it. He had a long list of contacts that he was planning on working through in the quest for more information when she was ready.

Explaining the other term that Grayson had used was just as brief and most of it went to breaking the news that things which had previously been the subject of fairy tales were real. She had the feeling that this particular subject would need a lot more in-depth study, but much like the concept of 'Grimm' the matter of 'Wesen' would need to be tabled until Dana had a moment to catch her breath. Mr. Wayne had ended the discussion by hooking up their tablets to the computer and starting file downloads.

Terry had been grinning immediately after revealing the Batcave to her, but his expression had quickly wavered under the onslaught of files that were appearing on the computer. "Enough with the background information right now. What are we going to do to protect Dana?"

She was a little insulted that simply protecting her was his knee-jerk reaction, but Mr. Wayne interrupted before she could say anything. "We can't protect her," the old man said, faded blue eyes angry. Dana wasn't sure who he was angry with, though she could tell it wasn't really aimed at either of them. "No one can protect her from the things that are coming. Killing a Grimm is the Wesen community's version of killing Batman, even one that's clearly brand new to the position. Every single one that wants to enhance its reputation will be coming after her."

"Then you're going to teach me how to protect myself," Dana said. "I'm assuming there's no way to stop being a Grimm and still stay alive?" The old man shook his head and Dana took a deep breath. She'd been expecting that. "Train me, then. I've already taken aikido and I'm a quick study. If you can't protect me, teach me how to take care of myself."

She had been expecting martial arts and grueling self-defense training in the back of her mind. What she got was homework, way more than she normally got when it came to school. Grayson had removed himself as a potential resource, at least for the time being, but Mr. Wayne had other contacts and apparently having an adopted son who was neck-deep in her new world meant that he'd gathered as much information as possible. The number of files about just 'Grimms' (something that sounded harsh and unfamiliar as an identity) were seriously frightening once they'd been downloaded onto her tablet. Terry simply gave her a weary smile when she'd looked up in disbelief and showed her his own list of things to be read. It included everything on her tablet and at least the same amount besides that had nothing to do with her current predicament.

Dana forced her attention to the tablet, pointedly not watching as Mr. Wayne dredged up every aspect of her background. She didn't want to see her mother's death up on that computer screen, especially since the man was barely pausing at firewalls into police and autopsy records. No one should have to look at photos from their mother's autopsy. A glance out of the corner of her eye made her wonder if Terry hadn't been so lucky. His father's death had been suspicious enough to warrant an investigation, one that had never been officially solved.

"Were you aware that your mother had a sister?" Bruce asked, dragging her attention back from contemplations of her boyfriend.

"Aunt Anna," Dana supplied promptly. "She died when I was six. I never met her. My dad didn't like my mom's family."

"It's likely that she was a Grimm as well, given how she died." He didn't go into the details, and Dana didn't ask. Things were already a little overwhelming without adding in something like that. "Anna Halder had two children, a boy named Christopher and a girl named Jacqueline. Jacqueline died six weeks ago in a home invasion, but the circumstances are shaky at best. When did you start noticing the changes?"

"About then. I've always been able to read people pretty well, but the weird looks started about five or six weeks ago."

Mr. Wayne raised one eyebrow, the expression somehow skeptical and completely neutral at the same time. "Really?"

"Why else do you think I'd stay with a boyfriend who continually runs out on our dates?" Dana asked, rolling her eyes in Terry's direction and ignoring his protest. "I knew he didn't want to miss them and that he believed that what he was doing was important, and I've always known that Terry was a good person underneath all the troublemaking and sleeping through class, same way I knew Charlie Bigelow was trouble from the beginning. Just because I like to have fun doesn't mean I'm stupid."

He turned back to his computer. "That could prove to be useful. Are the files all downloaded into your tablets?"

Terry stood up and stretched. "We've got our homework assignments, Bruce. Time to start work?"

The old man pushed up from his seat with a barely audible grunt of effort. "Upstairs to the gym. Let's see what we've got to work with."

xxx

His family had always been very careful to keep detailed family records. Chris could trace his family line back to the sixteenth century, although there was some obvious lack of detail the further out you went. Jackie had been his only sibling and the most recent Grimm. Their mother had been a Grimm before that and had lasted for almost twenty years, which was fairly significant. Most Grimms either died early on in their careers or lived as a Grimm for at least a decade before being taken out. Jackie had been a Grimm for eleven years before the Blutbad had broken her spine and effectively ended her life.

Their grandfather had been a Grimm for sixteen years before dying in the line of duty and passing the mantle on to Anna Halder, and he'd become a Grimm when his only sister died three years into the life. The only non-Grimm had been his mother's sister, a woman named Jennifer that he'd never met who had died when he was a kid. Grimm families tended to be small so that they were easier to defend. He was going to have to start digging into records that the family hadn't kept, or start going further up the family tree. Maybe someone had given birth to a bastard and hadn't kept a record of it, or something along those lines. One way or another, it was going to be a bitch tracking down the new Grimm. The good news was that it should be a simple matter taking care of things once he had managed to find the person. Being this far from the trunk of the family tree meant that the new Grimm would have no clue about that particular heritage. The new Grimm should be relatively easy prey.

It wouldn't take much to correct this mistake and get things back on track. He owed it to Jackie to make sure her sacrifice went towards a worthy goal.

xxx

This had been more like what she'd been expecting when she'd asked to train, though she wasn't expecting it to hurt this much. Dana was on the swim team and she'd always believed that she was in good shape, but keeping up with Terry was a lot more difficult than she had been expecting, even with the new information about her boyfriend being Batman.

The only saving grace as he tested her training was the fact that she could read his body language a lot better than he could read hers. He wasn't holding back, probably because of the little talk Wayne had given him while she had changed into a set of unisex gym clothes, and he didn't telegraph his moves in any way that she could see, but she had always been able to read Terry and that kept him from completely wiping the floor with her, though she ended up on the mat more often than not.

"Decent foundation, at least," Wayne had said after an hour or so had left her panting and drenched in sweat. Her boyfriend was barely breathing heavily and could probably have kept going for at least another hour. Dana was going to have to put in a lot of work to match that level of endurance and that would be a personal goal to work towards with all of the other things that were looming over her head. "Can you read everyone's body language like that, or is it just Terry?"

The question was a little startling, since she hadn't realized that he had noticed what she was doing. "Everyone's, though I'm best at reading Terry. I've known him since we were kids."

He nodded. "Cassandra was practiced at that particular method. I'll see about getting her to come and oversee your training, or at least pulling out some things for you to see and work into your current style. Any gymnastics in your background?"

"I never got beyond cartwheels and forward rolls," she confessed. It hadn't been interesting to her, and her balance wasn't the greatest. Swimming and piano had been more her style and those had been the lessons she'd worked on the most after six months of trying and failing to move past the most basic of gymnastic moves.

"We can work on the basics of that, at least. Terry can help you train on balance and agility. Weapons training?"

"My dad has a concealed carry permit and he taught me how to shoot his automatic. I know how to handle a gun, but that's it."

There was a flicker of something on the man's face, distaste mixed with something else, before it smoothed over. "We'll see if I can get someone to help with that as well. It will be a good opportunity to get Terry some formal training."

"We done for today?" Terry asked, attention apparently caught between the two of them. He'd been having a hard time splitting his focus during the sparring session, another reason why she'd been able to read him so well. Dana had been right when she'd called Mr. Wayne a father-figure for Terry, even before she'd known about his real second job, and judging from the actions of the older man it went both ways. It was something she'd have to think about once this most recent crisis was over.

"Go home, the both of you," Mr. Wayne said. "I have calls to make and work to do. I'll call if I need you, Terry."

Terry practically dragged her down the hall, barely pausing to grab her carefully folded clothing before showing her into a bedroom that was surprisingly dust-free despite the fact that it was clearly not used regularly. The bathroom attached to it was also clean and there were fresh towels hanging on the rack. "This is the room I use when I need to stay the night," he said, in answer to a question she didn't ask. "I'm going to run down to the laundry room and get a few more towels. This place never runs out of hot water, by the way, so enjoy the shower. I'll take mine when you're done."

They were back out on the street within half an hour, the trip from the manor house to the city going past in a rush of wind and blurry backgrounds and drying hair still damp from their respective showers. Terry drove past their usual haunts without being asked and stopped at a coffee shop that wasn't too far from the police station. Neither one of them spoke until they'd sat down at a booth and ordered coffee and food. Lunch had been interrupted by Charlie and it was past dinner time now. Dana was surprised at how hungry she was right now, although she probably shouldn't be. An hour of sparring with Terry had been one of the most exhausting workouts she'd ever had and now her body desperately needed fuel.

"The night you had me drive out there, just after your father died," Dana said, her hands cradling the mug. "That was the first night, wasn't it?"

"I figured out who the old man used to be the night Dad died," Terry replied. "Stole the suit the night you dropped me off. He made the job offer the next day."

"You solved your dad's murder, didn't you?" It explained something about him, afterwards. There'd been a burden on his shoulders, but it didn't seem to hurt as badly as it should have.

"I've known since the night I stole the suit. That was why I went to the old man in the first place. There was never enough to take to the cops and no way to make the charges stick, but karma caught up to people responsible in a big way."

"And did karma have a bat-shaped helper?"

"Maybe." He smiled, the expression sharper than his usual smiles around her. Dana supposed that she was probably looking at Batman in that moment. She filed away that observation for later and changed the subject.

"So, you've been working as Gotham City's most famous urban legend all this time and you didn't think to tell me? I wouldn't have given you half as much trouble about missing dates if you'd just told me the truth."

"I was worried that it would put you in danger. The old man's got a stack of stories that all end badly." He shrugged, a faint smile on his face despite the circumstances. "A quick word of warning, though, Max knows and she's been nagging me for a month about telling you."

She raised her eyebrows and tried to keep her temper in check. "You told Max?"

"She figured it out," Terry protested. "I didn't tell her, and I don't want her to know, but there's no taking that knowledge back without a high-grade psychic and none of the good ones would be willing to do it. I don't think she realizes just how serious the whole thing is, how much work is involved and how dangerous it is. Honestly, part of the reason I've held back from telling you everything was how much she was pushing."

"I'll let it slide," she said. There would be a conversation with Max on the subject in her near future. "So Mr. Wayne knows, obviously, and Max, and now me. Anyone else?"

He fidgeted in his seat. "The original Batgirl. But I'm not giving you her identity right now. That should be her choice."

"All right." Dana took a sip of her coffee, made a face at the bitterness, and reached for the sugar. "How bad is this training going to get?"

"It's going to be bad," Terry said. "He expects you to put in as much work as he would for anything, and he's kind of obsessed and a perfectionist. You'll come out of it with the best training you'll ever get if you stick it out, though. Wayne expects the best out of everyone he works with, and he gives it in return."

"As long as I survive I'll have the best training, you mean. I'm not sure about that at the moment."

"You'll survive. He's the best for a reason. He might take a few months to be satisfied that you know what you're doing, but Bruce knows exactly how far to push and when to stop."

"How long did he train you?"

"My training was all on the job. Technically I'm still being trained."

Dana narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not sure I can give up two years of my life to training."

"Dana, you're giving up the rest of your life to training. That's the way it works. You never stop training, because if you stop something will get you." He smiled again, though this time it was a little bitter. "Welcome to the life. Now you know why I put off dragging you into it."

"Yeah, well, too bad my family did instead."

"At least you won't be working two full-time jobs and going to school at the same time. That's the reason I sleep through math class. It's the only time I have."

Dana shook her head and laughed. "You didn't really need to be there anyway. You and I both know you could just take the book home and figure it out better than the teacher ever could. Too bad that doesn't work for history class."

"I pay attention in history," he said, laughter in his eyes if nowhere else. "It's not my fault all of the presidents were boring."

"Tell it to Ms. Pierce. And let me know before you do, so I can sell tickets."

xxx

He'd traced the lineage back four more generations without any leads and was ready to give up on the books. His family had never been very big, with only two or three children in every generation, and those were all dead ends. The only family member who hadn't died as a Grimm in all that time was his mother's sister, so the answer either had to do with her, or one of the men somewhere along the line had seeded an illegitimate offspring and neglected the usual follow-up. For the sake of his own sanity he was going to follow the thread of Jennifer Halder a little better.

His mother had only mentioned her sister once, just before she died, and she'd done it in a way that was more curse than anything. Apparently Jennifer hadn't ever liked the idea of being a Grimm and the life they lived to support that calling and had left when she was sixteen, disappearing in the crowd of people that made up Gotham City so thoroughly that no one had seen or heard of her until word came that she'd died in a commuter train accident nine years later. It had been an especially boring death for a Grimm and to his knowledge his mother hadn't even visited her grave.

Maybe her death hadn't exactly gone the way it was reported, though. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen someone fake her own death as a means of escape, and Chris could see that as an option if his aunt had really been trying to disappear. The trail was sixteen years cold, but tracking had always been one of his specialties and he thought he was up to the challenge. It looked like he was packing up and headed for Gotham City.

xxx

Training was hellish, exactly as Terry had predicted. Dana went with Terry up to Wayne Manor after school on the first day, expecting to have a slow, easy day for her first training session. Instead she had an hour of practicing her balance, which didn't sound bad until you realized that it meant staying upright on the balance beam the entire time, walking back and forth without sitting or crouching. When she fell (which she did, of course, several times) she climbed back up immediately and without help. It was surprisingly exhausting, even if all she did was stand or walk slowly. Terry looked sympathetic when he glanced up from the mountains of data-work that his boss had him working through. "You ever have to do this?" she asked after yet another tumble onto the mat below. Dana had never been so very aware of how many small movements her body made just to stand in one place.

"He didn't get a beam," Wayne said, eyes on the computer screen. "Look at the pole behind you. That's what you get when you're ready. Terry, is that charity paperwork filed yet?"

"Just finishing," Terry said. "I'll head out on patrol after."

Wayne shook his head. "No, I want you in for a while longer. You can both train for a while. I'll monitor the city. If something happens, I'll send you out."

"Any particular reason?"

"You've been sloppy with some of your moves because you're distracted. Helping to train Dana should help improve your discipline."

"And I'm still leaving myself open on my left side," Terry sighed, standing up and heading towards the small changing room in the Cave. It sounded like an old joke between the two of them, another part of their obviously complicated relationship. It went far beyond employer and employee, but she hadn't been able to precisely define it yet. That would take time and effort on Dana's part.

"Come down off the beam and get some water," Bruce said, and Dana didn't need to hear it twice. She'd polished off half of the bottle before Terry came back in shorts and a T-shirt and she had to set it aside. "Start with Kairi Tanaka's beginner's level," he instructed, standing up with the cane in his hand.

Dana mirrored Terry's actions as he executed each move, slowly at first and then picking up speed once she'd seen them all once. Wayne circled and watched, his cane finding a shin or forearm every once in a while with a reminder about precision. The blows weren't particularly harsh, but neither were they gentle, and it was incentive enough to pay attention to what she did. Terry received just as many as she did, she was pleased to notice, although it was possible his boss was holding him to higher standards.

It was hard to tell if it was because of her heritage or because Terry was a good teacher, but after an hour and a half Wayne called a halt to their work. Her legs were trembling a little, though not as badly as they should have been given her earlier balancing practice, and Dana sat down carefully when Terry did the same. "Better," the old man said. "Clean up and I'll go over what I've found."

By the time she'd gone upstairs, showered, and changed back into her street clothing Terry had used the shower in the cave and was in the kitchen putting together a meal. "We're eating up here. Want to help out?"

Dana wasn't a particularly good cook, but she didn't have to be most of the time; she and her dad mostly relied on take-out like the majority of Gotham City dwellers. It had been a pleasant surprise, discovering that Terry was good in the kitchen shortly after they started dating. Mr. Wayne apparently made use of that particular talent on occasion as well, since the kitchen was stocked with the types of ingredients that Terry favored when he was cooking and since Terry knew where everything was without searching.

"What do you need?"

"Set out plates and silverware? They're in the cabinet to the left of the sink, utensils in the drawer below that, napkins in the next drawer down. We're just waiting on the rice now."

She stacked the plates together carefully. "Where am I going with this?" she asked, and Terry glanced over from his task.

"In here. Bruce never uses the dining room. The place is creepy as all get out, and I'm not sure it's been used since he stopped having society things up here. We eat in the kitchen, or we eat in the Cave." Terry smirked. "Be glad it's not the Cave. The bats might add something to the creepiness factor, but they can kill any sort of craving for food."

Mr. Wayne came into the room a moment later, which ended any light-hearted flirting, and sat down at the table with a sigh of effort. "Cassandra will be here tomorrow. She wants to start immediately, so I'd get a good night's sleep if I were you two."

"I've never met Cassandra," Terry said, setting a dish of grilled chicken and steamed vegetables on the counter. It smelled fantastic and Dana felt her mouth water a little. "Do you mind telling us a little bit about her?"

Bruce smiled. "Oh no, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise. You'll have to see for yourself tomorrow."

xxx

Gotham City had always been a little strange compared to the cities that were around it, and the last decade or so had brought an alarming fashion trend that had the monsters hiding in plain sight. It made Chris' skin crawl, especially since there was no way for him to know if someone was really a Wesen or one of these 'splicers' that seemed to be all over the place on the lower levels.

It wasn't hard to get into the city records. He could probably have done it before coming to this nasty city, but it was better to be close in case snooping in the records sent up a red flag. If Jennifer had managed to fake her death he wouldn't put it past her to be monitoring who looked into her records and to rabbit if she felt it was necessary. The woman would have decades more practice at not being found and if she went to ground he would never find her.

After two days of combing through and looking for any sign of Jennifer Halder, Chris finally got a solid lead. Jennifer Halder had married a man and become Jennifer Tan legally, though she'd kept her maiden name for her work in public relations (another thing that made him cringe, because it was the least Grimm-like profession he could think of) and that was the name used in her obituary.

Jennifer Halder's story ended there. Jennifer Tan, however, had one more secret to share before Chris moved on: she'd become a mother a year before the accident that had supposedly killed her. Dana Tan was eighteen years old now and most Grimms came into their heritage in their late teens to early twenties, when they were most physically capable of handling things. There was the occasional outlier, but typically that was the progression, from older to younger.

Dana Tan was his most likely suspect and he was going to have to find her quickly. There was no telling what she knew and the longer she carried on the more difficult it would be to neutralize the threat she posed to the line. The next Grimm would be more worthy and better prepared to handle the burdens and abilities.

xxx

Terry was absolutely horrible with bladed weapons. Dana wasn't sure why that was a surprise, but he was so physically adaptable that the idea of him _not_ being a natural at anything hadn't even crossed her mind. Despite Wayne's grumbling about discipline and precision, Terry absorbed new moves and styles from Cassandra like a sponge and with an ease that she envied. It turned out that Dana finally had him beaten in at least one aspect of their now-mutual physical training, because Cassandra had nodded with approval at the end of their first weapons lesson. With a practice sword in her hand things felt a little more right and her training went more smoothly. It was the only time she ever beat Terry in sparring, though even then it wasn't a sure bet. Terry was more likely to abandon the sword and fall back on his other skills and Bruce allowed it without comment, since his focus was never points on a scorecard. He was training them to survive, after all, not to compete, and anything up to and including dirty street tricks were fair game.

Cassandra was always quiet and hard for even Dana to read, but she had the feeling that the woman felt at least some measure of approval when it came to Dana and Terry. There was an unspoken respect and some small measure of affection toward Bruce, which was a lot better than the reaction she'd gotten from Grayson. It hadn't been hard to put two and two together and realize that she was learning from another Bat, though pinpointing exactly which one was a little more difficult. There had been several different Batgirls and Robins over the years and Dana was only vaguely familiar on this side of history. It was interesting, but not her priority. Terry likely knew exactly who the older woman was and which cape she had worn, but he was keeping that information close to the chest.

The first day of training with Cassandra should have been far more nerve-wracking, but something about her quiet, no-nonsense approach was oddly comforting. Certainly she wasn't as intimidating as Bruce, though Dana had the feeling she was just as dangerous. She'd started on the weapons training from the beginning, putting Dana and Terry on a little more even footing.

Bruce didn't say much beyond a brief introduction, but she caught a glimpse of something like regret when he looked at Cassandra. Given how attentive she was, Cassandra had to have seen it as well, but she didn't seem to respond beyond a respectful nod at the time.

The training might have been accelerated, since it took up most of Dana's days and some of her evenings, but she didn't have the knowledge to be sure. Making use of the seemingly bottomless hot water that Wayne Manor offered became a daily thing, and the only thing the kept her from hobbling home at the end of her lessons. She had two months before classes started at Gotham State University and she had to be ready.

The nights that didn't involve physical training were usually spent down in the Cave, working through the files that Bruce had collected on the subject of Grimms and Wesen over the years and observing as Terry patrolled the streets of Gotham City.

The view that filled the screen was disorienting and Dana couldn't watch it for very long. They'd already proven that her newfound knack at reading people worked through the link, and that was what had been important. "Do you watch this every time he goes out?" she asked.

"I don't leave the vidlink up," he said, closing that connection. "It uses up too much battery. I'm usually listening when he's out in the suit. Going out without someone watching his back is dangerous, and it's always better to have someone else to gather intel. I just wanted you to have an idea of what it's like out there for him."

Dana chuckled at that. Knowing her boyfriend, he probably kept up a constant stream of quiet chatter while he was out working, just like he was right now. She had the feeling that Bruce left up the audio for company just as much as for his listed reasons. "Can Terry hear us right now?"

"No. I keep that turned off until I need it. A distraction could be fatal if it came during a fight."

"Can you drop the volume from his end?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "I can. I'm not sure why I should."

"Because I have some things I need to ask you, and Terry's voice in our ears will be distracting as hell." He was still looking skeptical, but Terry's speech dropped down into background noise.

"Good." She still wasn't sure that this was a good idea, but she needed to know and she suspected he needed to tell someone. Dana had the feeling that she was getting better at reading Bruce Wayne, which was probably quite a feat all on its own. "Why does Terry have your eyes?"

He went still for a fraction of a second, barely enough to notice. "I don't know what you're asking."

"I've known him since we were kids. I remember what he looked like when he was eight. And that portrait upstairs is pretty close to that. I know you didn't meet his mother until you hired him, but Terry has your eyes. I would like to know why. I haven't told him anything, and I waited until we were alone to bring it up, but we both know that it could ruin everything if he comes to his own conclusions."

Bruce turned to look at her, his expression closed off. "You can't tell him," the man said. "It would damage things. It might even get him killed."

"I won't tell him," Dana said. "I promise." Terry was good enough at observation and putting together the pieces that he would figure out the right questions with a few hints, but she needed to know what clues to drop.

There was a nod, barely there. He wasn't giving anything away now. "Terry is my son."

It was exactly what she'd suspected, but Wayne stopped at that point and Dana was forced to ask questions. "How did that happen?" As far as Terry knew, his mother hadn't met Bruce Wayne until the day the old man came to the family apartment with a job offer.

"Not the traditional way," Bruce admitted. "If I were to guess, it would be someone trying to recreate Batman, but there aren't many people who would be willing to do that and who also have the necessary connections and information to make it happen."

He suspected something, Dana could tell, but quite frankly that particular piece to the puzzle wasn't terribly important. "So you're somehow his biological father, through unknown outside interference. Why haven't you told him yet?"

"I have another son, conceived in a slightly more traditional way but with the same goals in his mother's mind." Bruce glanced over at the cases that held an array of costumes. "He was convinced that he was the only one who had the right to become Batman because he was my child by blood. He never realized that it was more about having the right heart for the mission than the right genetics."

"And Terry does," Dana said. It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Terry was one of the best people she knew despite his temper and his tendency towards recklessness.

"He's understood what it meant from the very beginning," Bruce confirmed. "Even I had started to forget what it meant until he came along. He's more than earned the right to wear the suit and that's the reason he's Batman. That's the only reason, but if he finds out he's my son, he'll start to doubt. He'll think I only cared about his blood rather than his talents."

"You could try telling him the truth like you just told me," Dana pointed out. "Terry isn't stupid, no matter how he likes to play it in school sometimes. He's going to start putting things together eventually. If he finds out that you kept this from him it's going to do a lot more damage."

"I will tell him. I just need some time." And with that the conversation was over and Bruce turned back to the monitor, hands on the keys and typing out commands. Terry's background commentary switched back to the forefront. "I've found someone willing to talk to you about Grimms," he said, voice back to neutral crankiness.

"Face to face?"

"Yes. He'll be here tomorrow night. If I were you I'd plan out what you want to ask beforehand."

xxx

She was a foolish girl. Chris was disgusted just watching as she walked down the street, her hand wrapped in the hand of a teenage boy. She laughed at something the boy said and leaned in closer, completely unaware of her surroundings. How could someone this weak become a Grimm? As far as he could tell, the only reason it had happened was because she was younger and theoretically more physically capable of enduring the tasks of the life, but she was obviously unsuited for it. It was a good thing he was here to correct this mistake.

The boy was of little consequence beyond a symptom of the real problem, but he would need to be removed to prevent the possible roadblock to his real goal. He might put up more of a fight than the Grimm girl if the way he was walking and taking in his surroundings was any sort of indicator, so he'd need to be killed quickly and with little warning. Chris would have to isolate them somehow, cut them from the rest of the herd of teenagers and prevent them from calling for help. The thought made his hands shake a little, but he stiffened his resolve and clenched his fists to stop before it could get out of hand. It wasn't murder. He was simply solving a problem and making sure that his family's Grimm legacy wasn't wasted on a bit of brainless fluff who couldn't fight her way out of a paper bag. Killing her quickly and efficiently was really doing the girl a favor. She'd never be able to defend herself from a Wesen and they would do so much worse to the girl. A quick and merciful death and everything would be back on track.

Chris was so caught up in his plans that he didn't notice the tall, mean-looking man who was watching him as well as the girl, and as he turned away to go back to his hotel and start making his plans he definitely didn't see the same man follow him.

xxx

When Barb had come to him with her request Sam hadn't been sure how to take it. It was clear she was reluctant to even mention it, and as the story spilled out about how Bruce Wayne knew about Wesen and had known for years that he was a Jagerbar it was easy to see why. The concept of secrecy was drilled into every Wesen's head at a young age, with the main tenent of 'be good or a Grimm will find you' underlying that early education. It helped that Barb hadn't been the one to share that secret with Wayne, but the very idea that it was out there was mildly frightening. In this day and age, it might deliver accusations of splicing and drive him from his work.

The request that had followed that revelation was equally as unsettling. There was a young Grimm who knew nothing about their world except what Wayne had been able to deliver, and while the man's contacts were no doubt remarkable it didn't begin to equal experiencing the tangled way Grimm and Wesen interacted. No matter what Wayne could dig up and teach, the Grimm would almost certainly die in short order without someone who knew how to navigate the world. He was ashamed that it still took a minute or so to agree to meet.

The days of Wayne fundraisers had been before his time, but not before his wife's, and Barbara knew her way up to the grand old place very well. Wayne was once one of the greatest champions of Gotham's police force and had been close friends with Barb's father back in his days as the Commissioner. No doubt she'd been here many times when she was younger.

Sam kept aware of what was happening around Gotham, enough to at least recognize Wayne's young assistant from the news footage, though the man was usually only barely seen in the corner of the shots while his employer spoke on camera. He wasn't the Grimm that Sam had been mentally preparing for over the last few hours, but Sam had been in the game long enough to know that the guarded expression and careful stance meant he was looking at Wayne's bodyguard. When the young man opened the front door and showed them in Sam kept his body language as neutral as possible as he walked into a large, empty foyer. It had probably once been beautiful, but now it simply seemed lonely and oddly abandoned and Sam had to suppress a shiver. It might be impeccably maintained, but he had the feeling this place had its fair share of ghosts.

"We're going to be in the study," Wayne's assistant said, and Barb nodded. The familiarity on the drive up continued as she started off deeper into the house and Sam followed, deliberately turning his back on the young man in a show of trust. This would have been a pretty elaborate scheme for an assassination attempt and he had faith that his wife wouldn't lead him into such a thing.

To live in Gotham City was to know the name of Bruce Wayne, even in this day and age, but Wayne stayed strictly away from politics and he'd never met the man before today. Despite the fact that Wayne must be past eighty by now, he had an undeniable presence even as he leaned on his cane. To ignore him or dismiss him would be incredibly stupid, but once his eyes had passed over the young girl standing next to him he found it hard to look away. Her human face was covered with a bone-white blank mask, its only embellishment the faint outline of a tiger across the forehead. Sam had only met three Grimms in his lifetime, all of them older, but they'd all worn those masks. According to what most Wesen knew, as a Grimm grew in their abilities things began to emerge on those masks as if being painted. He was curious about what the tiger meant, as it was her only embellishment.

He blinked, feeling the bear emerge for a moment under her scrutiny, before her features resolved into those of a lovely young girl, likely with Chinese heritage. She hadn't flinched or shown any sign of surprise at his face, so she knew at least a little. This might become a very useful opportunity.

Barb cleared her throat. "No bloodshed so far. I'd say that's a good sign."

There was a huffing sound from the door. "It's an improvement over the last time, that's for sure," Wayne's assistant said.

Wayne sent the young man a look and turned to Barbara. "I believe that introductions are in order."

Barb made the rounds, introducing Wayne and his assistant (Terrence McGinnis) before ending with the Grimm, Dana Tan.

Dana was looking at his wife as if she'd just learned something important and surprising, but she turned to him quickly enough. "Thank you for coming. I've got so many questions and Mr. Wayne was starting to run out of answers."

"It's my pleasure," he said, and it was. Despite the knee-jerk fear reaction (and it was fear, based on years of mutual conflict between Grimms and Wesen) Sam had the feeling that he was about to learn just as much as Ms. Tan.

xxx

He watched the girl and her playmate until they went beyond his reach and skill before retreating into the security of his motel room. He'd chosen a motel typical of the places that he and his sister had frequented in their travels, with the largest deciding factor being the willingness of the management to ignore anything as long as the police didn't get dragged into things and they paid their bill ahead of time. It meant that the places weren't particularly clean or comfortable, and as a younger man with hands like shovels pushed his way in the door Chris was forced to admit that it also meant that he wasn't as safe as he should be within the thin walls.

"I don't know who you are," the man said, his voice oddly soft. "The name on the register probably isn't real. What I do know is that you're a stranger in Gotham and you're poaching on my turf."

Chris had a gun strapped into a holster inside his jacket. It was illegal as hell in Gotham City, but he'd figured it was better to be in trouble for using an illegal weapon than to be dead because he was a sterling citizen, and with that reasoning he went for the weapon.

The other man closed the gap more quickly than he should have been able to move, given his bulk, and ripped the weapon away before he could shoot. A couple of Chris' fingers were probably broken in the meanwhile, but this much he could keep private due to the training he'd received when it wasn't clear whether he or Jackie would become the next Grimm in the family line. His hand was screaming in pain, but he wasn't about to let this clown know he'd managed to score a hit. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, lifting his chin a little and trying to exude the confidence he'd seen from his sister when she was facing down a Wesen. With the way his attacker had moved Chris was fairly sure he was looking at a creature. He could have probably bluff his way out of the problem with the simple fact that he was tracking down his lost cousin, but that would only work on a normal person and it was best if he didn't think about the family relationship. Giving her that kind of relevance might make him hesitate and he couldn't afford the distraction.

There was a growl from the man, further proof of Chris' hypothesis, and the monster pushed in close. "Dana Tan's mine. She's my ticket to the big time and I'm not going to let some out of town loser come in and take that away. Her boyfriend's mine, too. He owes me and I intend to collect, one way or another. So if I were you I'd pack up my stuff and get out of my town."

Grimms were made tougher than most people, and Chris might technically not be one yet but he wasn't going to allow this punk to push him around. He was stronger, likely a Wesen, but Chris was smarter. He was willing to bet his life on that much. "You want the girl, you can have her," he said. It would accomplish his goals and leave him in the clear. "But you better make it soon. As soon as word gets out that there's a helpless little Grimm out here in Gotham this place will turn into a shark tank. If you don't want to get caught up in the feeding frenzy you should take care of it before you have to spend more time taking out everyone who's here for the opportunity than killing off the girl."

"I'm going to kill her soon." The Wesen put one hand around Chris' throat and lifted him into the air easily, cutting off his supply of air. "Probably going to kill you even sooner. Nothing personal. I just can't let you ruin this for me."

Its face morphed until Chris was seeing the monster's true face, one he recognized from his own research. He was currently being threatened by a Schakel, most likely a young one with a lot to prove, and unless he thought of something very quickly Chris wasn't going to live through this encounter. Even in the world of monsters Schakel's were known to be mean, ruthless killers. "I can help you isolate her," he said quickly.

The Wesen paused, his animal face disappearing. "How were you planning on doing that? I guarantee you'll have a hard time getting Terry to leave her side if he thinks she's in danger. He's kind of stupid like that."

Chris hadn't wanted to use this, hadn't planned on using it, but it was the only real solution to his problem. "I'm her cousin, and the only family she has left on her mother's side. She'll want to meet me."

There was a flash of some kind of understanding in the Wesen's eyes. "Family, huh? Family might work. What's your name, Dana's cousin?"

"Chris," he said. He left off his first name. It was less complicated that way.

"Good to meet you, Chris. You can call me Big Time." There was a smile on that cruel face, one that fit the Wesen's personality. "It looks like you just became useful. That's probably a first for you."

Chris gritted his teeth. "Glad to know it." The first chance he got once the thing had taken care of their problem, Chris was going to put a bullet in its head. The Wesen was probably planning the same thing, of course, so it would be entirely fair.

xxx

The time spent with DA Young had helped. After that first meeting with Dick Grayson Dana had been worried that every single person who understood what she happened to be would either want to kill her or avoid her completely, leaving her with nothing but the knowledge that Mr. Wayne had collected over the years. That knowledge had been primarily gathered with Mr. Grayson's heritage in mind and she could already see the gaps in that education, mostly secondhand and little of it verified. She would need more help in the long run, of course, since apparently Grimms had been better about keeping their abilities secret from their counterparts, but it was a start. Mr. Wayne had a lead on that front that would hopefully help once he'd managed to track it down.

The four of them went through a full pot of coffee and half a pot of tea before Mr. Young was done answering all of her initial questions, and he'd given her his business card so she could ask further questions as she though of them. When Terry escorted them to the door Dana joined him, watching as the car went through the open gates and disappeared around the bend. "The Commissioner used to be Batgirl," she said quietly. It explained a lot of things that had happened over the years.

Terry gave a short nod. "She was the first Batgirl."

"Wow."

"That was my reaction," Terry agreed. "Wait until the first time you meet a member of the League. Just don't try to strike up any meaningful conversations with any of them."

"Why not?"

"They're jerks. It's not important." He closed the door and turned to her. "Did it feel good to get someone to talk to you?"

"It felt amazing," Dana said. "I still don't know why Mr. Grayson couldn't just sit down and have this conversation with me. Am I really that much of a threat?"

Terry shrugged and didn't say anything, but it was clear he had some thoughts on the matter that he wasn't sharing. She'd have to tease those out of him later, when they were alone. For now, though, the city was calling and Terry was going out to answer it. He had his own heritage to claim, just like Dana was starting to come to grips with being a Grimm.

Official training was over for the day and Cassandra had gone out to meet with someone she simply described as a friend. Dana didn't ask questions. Cassandra would share if she wanted and to do anything more would be a breach of the older woman's privacy. One similarity that Dana had noticed across the board when it came to Terry's new family was their desperate need for privacy. Of course, looking at Mr. Wayne it was easy to see where that had originated. Because Cassandra had gone and Terry was out on patrol, her options were to stay upstairs in the vaguely spooky house or to follow the old man down into the Cave and do her reading while keeping an ear on her boyfriend. She wasn't sure what she was going to do if something happened, but just listening as Terry made slightly sarcastic commentary and beat up Jokerz was oddly calming.

It was a quiet night, which apparently had the effect of making Mr. Wayne suspicious. He liked to speak about Gotham like the city was a person, sometimes, and to him a lack of current activity meant that there was a mess coming down the road. He had just ordered Terry back to the Cave to start looking for that potential mess when her phone chirped to indicate an incoming call.

The number wasn't one she recognized, so she held it out so Bruce could see it. He nodded, and by the time she'd answered he was already running a search and a trace. "Hello?"

"Is this Dana Tan?"

She didn't recognize the voice, though it was deep and male and devoid of a local accent. "Yes. May I ask who this is?"

A chuckle echoed down the line, only barely forced. "My name's Chris Halder. You don't know me, but I'm your cousin."

A glance at Bruce showed that his eyes were narrowed even as he continued his quiet search on the computer. "I don't have a cousin," she answered. She shouldn't have known about him, after all. Most girls didn't have two different versions of Batman digging up information on her family. "My mom was an only child and my dad's family is long gone."

"No, my mother and yours were sisters. I recently discovered a diary of my mother's when I was looking through some of her things and it mentioned her sister, Jennifer Halder, who ran away when she was a teenager."

Dana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She never said anything that I can remember." That much was true, at least.

"Yeah, when I looked her up I saw that she'd passed away a long time ago. Then I found out that she had a daughter and I knew I had to try to contact you. My sister died not too long ago and you're the only family I've got left."

It would have been a lot more convincing if she hadn't remembered the information that Mr. Wayne had discovered on her first night down here, and the theories he'd constructed with that information. Jaqueline Halder's death was suspicious at best. The woman's brother was up to something. She'd have to meet him to be sure, but Dana was becoming more convinced that Chris Halder had set his sister (and potentially, the last Grimm) to be killed. This wasn't the way that people behaved. Her cousin was at least a decade older than she was and his mother had died years ago. The timing was a little too coincidental to be genuine.

Wayne's expression was readable enough to convey that she should play along, so Dana took a deep breath and did exactly that. "I don't have any family," she said, keeping her voice soft and hopefully vulnerable. "But I think . . . I think I might like to have family."

"Can you meet me?"

Dana had a hard time keeping from laughing at that. No self-respecting Gotham girl would fall for this, recent special training notwithstanding. Gotham City followed Darwinian theories regarding survival of the fittest, and anyone stupid enough to allow an unknown to isolate her got what they had coming. "I'm not sure," she said, her voice still soft and uncertain.

"We can meet somewhere public," he assured her quickly. "I just want to talk."

"I suppose that might be all right," she finally said. "Can I pick the place?" At his agreement to those terms, she gave him the address to Rhinos and agreed to meet with him before closing off the connection and turning to Mr. Wayne. "Well, that seemed completely innocent and innocuous. Nothing at all creepy or suspicious in that phone call."

The old man nodded. "And what are you planning to do with this obvious trap?"

"I was thinking that Terry could help me spring it. I've got a feeling he's going to say a little too much once we're in person, and then he's going to try to get me alone."

"The best advantage you have in this situation is that he had no clue how much you know," Mr. Wayne agreed. "He's expecting a young, inexperienced girl with no idea that she's in danger. He thinks you're easy prey. When Terry is back the two of you should start making plans for your family reunion."

It turned out that the first and hardest decision was whether to use Terry McGinnis, Dana Tan's boyfriend, or Batman. Either one presented risks and rewards, but with the very real possibility that Chris Halder had been tailing her recently Batman won out as the best choice. Terry swore that he could pull off undercover if necessary, but it was probably best not to risk it. Right now they were going to enter into this situation with the greater share of knowledge, and if Halder recognized Terry and came to the conclusion that he was there undercover they would lose that edge. Batman was something you took for granted as a possibility and part of the bargain when it came to doing business in Gotham City.

Dana made a conscious decision not to worry about this meeting as she climbed into her car and headed out. The girl that Chris Halder was planning to meet wouldn't worry about such things, only about the fact that she was going to be meeting a member of her family for the first time. She didn't check for Batman once she was in the parking lot, though she was very tempted. The reassurance that he was there would have helped her nerves a little. Instead, she took a deep breath, sent out a mental reminder that Terry never let her down when it mattered and was probably already in position and under camouflage, and walked into the restaurant.

Halder had promised to meet her at the counter and she made a show of looking for him despite the fact that she spotted the man as soon as she entered the building. He waved her over and they made introductions and awkward small talk while they waited for drinks. Once the waitress was gone he pulled out an old electronic tablet and set it down on the table between them. "I found some pictures of our mothers and thought I would share him," he said, tapping on the screen to start the program before sliding it toward her.

The pictures were vague and ambiguous, mostly two girls in t-shirts and shorts standing in various places. They didn't really help build the connection that Halder was probably counting on since there were no shots other than that. The man probably didn't realize that most children would have pictures taken while they were playing and the fact that such images apparently didn't exist spoke volumes of their childhood and him. It was no wonder her mother had run away. This was a youth straight out of the Supernatural novels.

He waited until Dana had finished her refilled glass of water and gone through the contents of the album multiple times before finally baiting his trap. "I've got some other family things in my car. They were a little too unwieldy to bring inside, but I thought you might like to see them."

Dana pretended to debate the decision while she hit the alert button on the disguised bracelet on her left wrist. It would be nice to have this whole mess over and done with, because this guy was starting to creep her out. He couldn't quite decide whether to be a concerned family member or a guy who was trying to pick her up in the club and the combination was particularly off-putting.

He was just leading her around the corner of the building to his supposed car when another man stepped out of the shadows to join them. "Been looking for you, Dana," Charlie said, and Dana wanted to scream at the universe. Of course the two of them had teamed up. Scumbags seemed to always find other scumbags.

"I'll just get out of your way," Chris said. "You never saw me and I didn't get a good look at you." With that he retreated to a distance several yards away.

"You have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy this," he told her, grinning in a way that was completely unpleasant. "You're my ticket to the top, babe, and I wish I had the time to truly enjoy it." His face changed and Dana glared at him.

"I wouldn't count on it." And with that she delivered one of the moves from the self-defense class that she'd taken a few years ago, enhanced and refined with Cassandra's instruction, and put all of her leverage and weight into a snap kick to the groin. Her conversations with DA Young had assured her that such an attack was just as effective against a Wesen as it was a standard human.

He dropped to his knees, but his scream was more rage than pain and he reached out for her with both hands. She'd been expecting it and countered before dodging back out of his range, stumbling a little on the uneven ground of the parking lot. That stumble probably saved her life, since it meant that the shot fired towards her went through empty air. There was an odd sound, more like the pop of an air gun than anything else, and Halder dropped to the ground with a bola wrapped around him. There was one around Bigelow a second later. "The police are on their way," Batman said, and Dana shivered. Hearing that voice when she knew the person behind the mask was eerie and unsettling and she would need practice at not reacting. "Are you all right, miss?"

Dana turned away from the two on the ground so they wouldn't see her roll her eyes. He was putting it on thick. She returned the favor by batting her eyes and pressing her hand against her chest. "It was terrifying. Can you stay with me until they come?"

"It won't be a problem," he assured her, walking over to kick the weapon away from Halder and casually delivering a taser shot to knock him out. He did the same to Bigelow, ignoring the stream of insults and obscenities and keeping on the juice for longer than was probably necessary. "Did you record everything you needed?"

"Halder didn't outright say he wanted to kill me, but since he fired a shot at me I think I'll be pretty successful in pressing charges."

"Good." There was a moment of hesitation. "You should call your boyfriend and let him know what's happened. That way he knows to head this way and he'll get here right after the cops arrive."

"Thank you, Batman. That's an excellent idea." She did that, just in case someone checked her phone records. It was obvious that Batman wasn't willing to risk breaking his cover to have a real conversation with her and that she'd need to wait until she had her boyfriend back to get the reassurances she really wanted. Now that the fight was over her hands were shaking a little from the adrenaline.

The first flashing lights appeared in her peripheral vision and Dana turned to look as the car drove into the parking lot. She felt Batman's sudden absence, rather than heard or saw it, but not two minutes later Terry was pulling into the lot on his cycle and he had his arms around her.

It wasn't truly over, of course. Dana had the feeling that this type of thing never really ended. But for now the immediate threat was gone and she was safe. It was enough.

Author's Note:

This literally wouldn't have been possible without my beta and friend, PaBurke. Most of the ideas for Grimm succession and powers and the specific concept of the mask as the Grimm's true face come directly from her headcanon, and she was also the one who did the initial legwork regarding the tiger in Chinese mythology.


End file.
